


The dim light (is becoming clearer)

by well_of_sapphire_fears



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Bang Chan-centric, Fantasy, Heavy Angst, Just for a little while, Lee Felix (Stray Kids)-centric, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, a ton of idol cameos, chan's name is chris in the beginning, for those who like plot, i'm not posting warnings but this will get heavy, it will take a while for everyone to get here, mostly JYP, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2020-10-10 17:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20531567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/well_of_sapphire_fears/pseuds/well_of_sapphire_fears
Summary: It is Year 3510 MM on the crossroads five miles from their village when fate separates them and according to The Witch, it is their destiny not to meet again until the day they die. But Chris has never been anything been but stubborn and he has always carried a certain distaste in his heart for being told what he can or cannot do, so he’s not going to give up on Felix so easily. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll find something more than what he was looking for.or: In a world of cruelty and selfishness, Chris sets out on a very important expedition. On the way, he will meet people who will help him grow and whom he'll help in return. And even though it will sometimes seem like the whole world is against him, he's both Chris and Chan and he won't rest until the people he loves are safe and sound.





	1. Prologue: This is our start line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, how nice of you to click on this story. I will let you read it in a moment, but before, there is one thing I need to mention.
> 
> I don't do OCs, ever. The background characters here will either be too insignificant and stay unnamed or be a kpop idol cameo (there will be a lot of those). That said, in this story one original character will show up and I want to tell you why. The idea for this multichapter monster came to me during the episode of Chan's room when he wished his little sister happy birthday and I built it around her existence, but I refuse to use the name of a real person that is not a public figure, especially when Chan's sister is a minor.
> 
> That's how we get Grace, Chris' younger sister. She will not be a main character or even show up a lot, but she is too essential to the plot for me to cut her out completely and trying to leave out a name would be way too awkward and break the flow of the story.
> 
> So. That's what I needed to say. Thanks for reading it. I'll let you get back to the actual story now.

Straya, the Isles of Oss

The 10th Moon of the Year 3510 MM, Day 4

Felix’s first memory is of Grace’s birth. Which is probably quite unusual - other people most likely remember their parents or maybe their birthday parties, but Felix remembers Grace. Well, to be exact, he doesn’t actually remember _her_ – he wasn’t there, wasn’t in fact allowed to come near the baby until she was almost six months old. By then, she was this plump miniature human that had the most adorable laugh in the world. Felix was endeared and he always tried to make her laugh to hear it.

But we’re getting a bit off topic, aren’t we?

Grace was born on a winter night when Felix was three (almost four!), earlier than she was supposed to, weak and sick and, even though they didn’t know it back then, she would only get weaker and sicker as the years passed by. Sick with an illness even the old lady all children called “The Witch” that lived alone in the forest and knew all the plants’ names did not know how to cure.

But Felix’s first memory is of that night, when he was awakened from his peaceful sleep by a commotion in his house. The Second Moon had hidden already, and the Sun was just peeking above the horizon. Most of the villagers were still in deep slumber. Felix had crawled off the bed and after a moment’s hesitation, decided to put on a brave face and protect his mother from whatever monster was currently making a ruckus downstairs. He should act like the head of the household in his father’s absence after all. Fortunately, when he reached the top of the stairs and looked down, he realized that the terrifying monster was actually his mother rummaging through the drawers of the one lone cupboard that stood in their kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Felix remembers asking when he managed to climb down the stairs on his own with only slight difficulty. His mother had only looked at him and sighed. She then sat him down on one of the chairs in their small living room, told him to be good and left the house. She came back a minute later with Chris and even through his confusion Felix had smiled widely. Chris was like an older brother and a best friend all at once and even though Felix knows the other boy had been just six years old at the time, back then he looked like he held all the answers in the world. His mother had gathered her things, kissed both of the boys’ foreheads and left again. He did not realize it at the time, but she must have gone to help with Grace’s birth. Their mothers have been best friends for a lot longer than Felix was even alive.

“Mom’s in labour,” explained Chris from his spot on the floor next to Felix’s chair when he saw the younger furrowing his brows, confused.

“Oh, I see,” answered Felix, even though at the time he had no idea what ‘in labour’ meant. But his dad had told him he was a big boy before he left on a hunting trip two days earlier and big boys understood big words without having to ask anyone what they meant.

Chris looked up at him and grinned that pretty smile of his that always caused his dimples to show up and turned his eyes into crescents. “It means that I’m truly getting a little sibling now. You’re not going to be the youngest in the village anymore, you know?” He reached up to ruffle Felix’s hair.

“Oh,” the younger smiled back at him, excited. It’d be great if the old ladies on the square found someone else to constantly coo about. He didn’t mind being called adorable, but they kept trying to ruffle his hair and no one was allowed to do that. Aside from Chris. Chris was an exception.

“You still think it’s a girl? The Witch said that I’m going to have a baby brother and she’s supposedly never wrong.”

“It’s a girl,” Felix answered, his still-too-big-for-his-face eyes full of conviction and little hands clenched into fists. “I know it, I just know it.”

“Whatever you say, little guy,” Chris said. His eyes widened as he suddenly remembered something. “But, since you are so convinced about it and dad believes The Witch is always right, so he only prepared a gift for a new-born boy…” Chris started rummaging through his pockets as he talked. “I decided we needed to be safe – a baby needs to have something to ward off old spirits. And I made this!” Chris finally found what he was looking for and triumphantly held out his hand for Felix to see and the boy gasped, amazed. It was a necklace. At least Felix thought so – no one wore any jewellery in Oss, people having more important matters to attend to and no time to waste on trying to make themselves look pretty. Chris explained it to him once, the concept of bracelets and earrings, having read about it in one of the books about the mainland, but the younger wasn’t very interested. He preferred stories about kings that slayed dragons. The gift for the baby might have been called beautiful or ugly by the mainlanders, but Felix did not know nor care for beauty standards. At the time the piece of a thin rope with a small circular object hung on it simply seemed like the most fascinating thing in the whole world.

“It’s pretty,” he replied, slightly afraid to touch it. The older boys always called him a scaredy-cat, so out in the village, he tried pretending his hands didn’t shake or that his heart didn’t flutter as often as it actually did, but with Chris it was safe. Felix never hid his fears in front of him, knowing he’ll only receive warmth and comfort instead of scorn and laughter.

“It’s nothing much. I made it with the things I found on the beach since mom said that talismans needed to be created with the gifts of the forest for a boy and the ocean for a girl. But look,” Chris said and held up his hand so that a ray of the rising sun fell on it through the window onto the object. “This circle shines in the light, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Wow,” the younger exclaimed. It really was glistening in the sunlight and as he finally gathered enough courage to cautiously poke it with his finger, he realized it was cold to the touch. It reminded him of how the waves near the harbour always glinted when the Sun was climbing up on the sky but if you tried swimming in them, they’d be freezing. “It’s a good charm.”

Chris chuckled at his answer. “Thank you, Lix, if you like it then I can give it to my sister,” the elder ruffled his hair again. Chris always liked doing that whenever Felix’s head was within arm’s reach. “Now, why don’t we read the last book my dad brought me instead of sleeping. Your parents aren’t here and what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

And there the memory ends. To be honest, Felix’s not quite sure if that conversation even happened or if his overactive imagination had painted that pretty picture in his mind, but the fact that his first memory is of a smiling Chris right next to him brings him warmth whenever he thinks about it, so he chooses to believe in it.

The gift definitely exists, Grace never takes it off, always wearing it on her neck and playing with it absentmindedly as she lays in her bed.

Well, whatever. That’s not important now.

Let’s get back to the point.

_Focus, Felix Lee._

Now, as Felix stands here on the crossroads, he realizes that not just the first one, but all of his favourite memories include Chris. Chris, his best friend, Chris, his older brother with whom he shares everything but blood ties, Chris, his ever-patient teacher.

Chris, who is leaving.

“Can’t you take me with you? I’m useful, you started teaching me how to hunt last year and since then I’ve only gotten better,” Felix whines even though he knows it’s most likely a lost cause. He’s been trying to get the older boy to agree for weeks and it’s borne no fruits and Chris is not someone that changes his mind at the last minute. 

“No, Lix, how many times do I have to tell you, you’re just a kid,” Chris sighs and shakes his head. The movement messes up his curly strands, the ones he spent so much time on trying to comb through before they left. Felix doesn’t understand why Chris tries to straighten his hair so much. It’s a part of him, he should wear it with pride. And it’s beautiful, too.

“You’re not that much older than me,” Felix grumbles under his breath. He still looks up to Chris, still idolises him a bit if he were to be honest, but he’s not as blind as he used to be. The elder has just turned 13 and even though the law sees him as an adult now, he’s still young. Felix’s has heard stories of city boys being married off at that age, of princesses carrying heirs and giving birth to them at 14, but to a village boy like him it’s all they are – stories. Here in Straya, barely anything ever changes, and everyone works together in the fields regardless of their age. No adult has time to think about arranging their kids’ marriages when they’re not sure if they’ll have enough food to survive the winter. In some ways, poverty is not so bad. Although only in some.

But officially, Chris is an adult now and not even his sobbing mother can force him to stay when he doesn’t want to. So he’s leaving, leaving his family, leaving _Felix_ behind.

“I’ll come back, you know that, right?” Chris grins at him and suddenly Felix is a child again and only cares about the sand under his feet, the feeling of sun on his face and the warm presence next to him, his big brother with a dimpled smile who teaches him about the wonders of the world. But Felix has grown up, he’s almost ten now and knows the harsh bitter truth that is his reality. The world may be beautiful, but it is not a merciful place for the poor or the sick. It’s still a wonderful place, with people like Chris, Grace or their families living in it and Felix knows he’s lucky to be blessed with such kind people around him. So Felix smiles at the elder now. And he swears to himself that he’ll keep on smiling, through the harsh winters and even harsher summers, for as long as it will take for Chris to return so that when they meet again it will be the first thing Chris will see. He always loved it when Felix smiled.

He’ll make sure to keep this promise, even if it’s the last thing he does.

“Hey, are you listening to me?” comes a question and Felix nods as he forces himself to look up at the older boy’s face. The sky is starting to lighten, but Chris’ almost white strands still stand out almost magically against the dark blue. It reminds Felix of that beach on the Eastern Shore they once visited together, where the dark waves lapped at the white sand.

“Oh, Lix, what are we going to do with you? You always get distracted by your thoughts so easily,” Chris sighs fondly. “Now, always remember what I taught you, alright? I’m giving you my knife so never forget to carry it with you, it’s your most prized possession from now on, okay? Especially in the forest, I’ve heard someone spotted wolf tracks recently and wolves are as dangerous as they are intelligent, so don’t forget it. But if you have a chance to run instead of starting a fight, take it. And animals have better instincts than we do, so if you see them running away from something you should follow their lead. If the wolf is scared of it, you wouldn’t even stand a chance. It’s always smarter to choose to flee rather than to fight. Bravery will not save anyone, ok? Just run as fast as you can. Don’t look back.” Chris goes on, but Felix starts focusing more on the tone of his voice than on the words he’s saying. It’s warm, very much like Chris and although it’s supposedly Felix who’s staying at home, it doesn’t feel like it. His home is not the village, not even his parents’ small yellow house standing on the edge of it, but instead, it’s the stories Chris used to tell him as they sat together on the beach and watched the sunset. It’s their laughter as the stars started blinking on the night sky and the elder comparing the galaxies over their heads to the ones dotting Felix’s cheeks. He always said that Felix’s freckles are prettier.

Chris always said a lot of things.

It’s funny, when Felix thinks about it, because Chris isn’t a talkative person, not like Felix himself. But Felix didn’t know how to read as a child, so he demanded that the elder told him stories since he liked reading books so much, and Chris indulged him. And then- then it became their tradition, Chris always telling the younger stories from faraway lands and legends from the mainland.

Suddenly, Chris is hugging him, and Felix realizes he must’ve ended his little speech. Which means that their parting is nearer than he thought. Felix shivers slightly, not sure if he’s ready for it quite yet. But to be honest, he’ll probably never be ready, so he just clings to the older with all his might and folds the moment until it’s just a small square that he hides at the back of his mind. He’ll never let it go.

“Take care of Grace, for me, ok? You have to be her big brother until I come back,” Chris pulls him back and holds him at arm’s length to look into his eyes. His own eyes are slightly red and usually Felix would tease him and call him a cry-baby, but now… Well, as they supposedly say in one of the faraway countries Chris had told him about, that would be “the pot calling the kettle back”.

“I promise. But in exchange, you have to swear that you’ll be back,” the younger answers with determination, squeezing the hand on his shoulder with his own small palm. Everyone in the village knows how important promises are to Chris. He’s never broken one.

“Oh, Lix, you really have so little faith in me? I’m hurt,” Chris laughs and dodges Felix’s half-hearted punch aimed at his shoulder. “Okay, okay, fine, I swear to come back. Happy now?”

“Yeah,” Felix replies. And because he’s still a kid (in the eyes of the law) and because he doesn’t know for how long Chris will be away, he wraps his arms around the elder again, as tightly as his lanky, ten-year-old body allows him to. Chris is the only person whom he trusts completely and living in the village without him is going to be hard. But the world is wide and there are more important things than Felix’s feelings and insecurities. He’ll deal. He’ll have to.

“And remember, you have to be on your best behaviour all the time,” he can hear Chris’ grin in his words as he buries his face in the elder’s chest and tries to keep his smile from wobbling. Smiling makes everything better, his mother used to say. And Chris. For Chris, he can smile forever. “Since you’ll never know the exact moment we’ll meet again.”

“Sure, sure,” he replies, and they stay like that for a few minutes just breathing in each other’s presence. But though Felix is young, he’s still poor and poor children need to work. He was supposed to be on the fields before sunrise and he knows very well he won’t make it now. And Chris should leave as early as he can so that he won’t be late for the ferry that is supposed to take him away from their island, so Felix steps back, leaving the embrace. “Now go. It dawns already.”

Chris smiles at him one last time and ruffles his hair. Felix takes in his warm eyes, dimples and broad shoulders, burns this image of the Chris who used to be his constant into his mind and tucks it away with all the other ones. He’ll keep it, for the times when simply smiling won’t be enough to chase away the sadness, for the lonely days in the fields and even lonelier nights on the beach, for every moment he’ll turn to grin at someone that’s not there anymore. He already knows it will happen too often.

Chris grasps tightly the strands of his backpack. “Take care of yourself, Lix,” he says.

Then he turns and leaves.

Felix knows he should go back before his absence gets noticed by the Overseer, but he still can’t move for a long, long time. He stands there on the crossroads and watches Chris’ back get smaller and smaller as the older boy walks down the path that will take him far, far away to the port and then to the mainland where lay big cities, old castles and all the other things that he used to tell Felix stories about. And he’ll miss him, knows that he’ll miss him with all he has, but in that moment, Felix smiles brightly and happily. Because if there is one thing that’s certain in this world it’s that Chris always keeps his promises. He’ll be back. It may take days, it may take years, but he will come back.

With the sun already hanging high in the sky, Felix turns around and trots back to the village.

And this is where this story begins.

This is their goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some additional facts about this to make reading easier in the future:  
\- I know that the summary might make you think the story is from Chan's point of view and the prologue that it's from Felix's. Actually, it's from both and you will see what I mean in the next chapter.  
\- I created this world. Its' geography will be touched upon more later and for now you just need to know that Felix and Chris are from a kingdom called the Isles of Oss (that's obviously made up entirely of islands) and their village is on the island Straya. Other than Oss, there's the Mainland with a few Kingdoms that you'll learn about soon. Every chapter will begin with the place its' set and the date.  
\- The characters that live in this world tell time by Moons and the dates in the beginning will reflect that. Theis world has twelve Moons and you can simply translate them to our months e.g. First Moon = January and so on. Each Moon has its' characteristics but this is not important for now. People from Oss also sometimes use the expression of Sun when talking about days (4th Sun is the 4th day of the month), but it's quite rare so you won't see it often.  
\- Every chapter will be titled with 3RACHA song lyrics either from a 3RACHA or a Stray Kids track. If it's in Korean, I'll translate it. Feel free to guess the song, because it won't always be as easy as in the prologue.  
\- Yes. Chan's hair is naturally white here. And curly.
> 
> This will have 20-something chapters and I'm at 50k now (and I'm definitely not done), so we're in for a trip. I hope to see you at the end.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is always welcome, so please comment if you want to tell me something. I don't bite.


	2. Though I reach out my hand, there's no one to grab it (손을 내 밀어도 날 잡아줄 사람은 아무도 없어)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in the village goes on and Chris might've just found his first friend far away from home.

The 3rd Moon of the Year 3511 MM, Day 18

Straya, the Isles of Oss

**Felix**

The sun is beating down harshly onto Felix’s back as he climbs the hill behind the village and heads to the forest. He’s already taken this route hundreds of times, but recently, the afternoon rays seem stronger than before, piercing through the material of Felix’s clothes and causing rivulets of sweat to roll down his face and the back of his neck. Someone, he reckons it was probably Eric, had been chattering on about it in the morning as they ran around the fields, telling tales of fires on the mainland and storms out in the sea that are supposed to be the land’s way of announcing an imminent change in the world they know. The older villagers had laughed at him, but Felix heard a nervous wobble in their voices – Eric was probably just making stuff up, but it doesn’t change the fact that the soil this summer was as dry as a bone and the clear sky did not foretell rain anytime soon.

But Felix is ten and optimistic and, as Chris has always said, his smile could rival the Sun, so he doesn’t worry about the end of the world or any other impending dooms just yet. It’s not like he has nothing to think about already, having taken Chris’ duties on top of his own when the elder had left. And so, he keeps smiling at the frowns villagers throw his way, bears that grin of his with a certain kind of pride – it is the only way he manages to get a weak smile out of mother nowadays. It has also always been one of the few things that could calm Chris down when he got too angry at the world.

Because even though Chris was incredibly kind and warm, he had moments when the bitterness hidden deeply in his soul would shine through. Being one of the only people in the village willing to learn, he’s been soaking up knowledge from mainland’s books for as long as Felix could remember. But Chris, unlike most, had also another talent – he could look underneath the pretty words and elaborate expressions to find the hidden truths. And what he saw there was neither beautiful nor kind and the more he read the less faith he had for humanity and the kingdoms.

One could decide to be bitter about it forever, growing into a cynical adult, but that wasn’t Chris. Chris decided he didn’t want to do what was expected of him.

He decided that he’d change the world one day, his voice firm with determination when he announced this to Felix one evening they were sitting together on the beach, looking at the darkening sky. And Felix believes in that, in him, no, Felix _knows_ that he will.

So Chris read and read and read even more. Felix can remember many nights when he fell asleep to the rustle of turning pages and woke up to the same sound, Chris still in the same place as if he hadn’t moved at all. Looking back now, maybe he hadn’t. The bags under his eyes had been a permanent feature of Chris’ face for as long as Felix can recall.

Felix remembers his mother saying that Chris would grow out of his anger at the wrongs of this world, that as he lives, he’ll learn that among the evil, there are also the kind. He wonders if this trip will teach him that. If he’ll come back as someone else than the Chris he’s always knows and loved.

It doesn’t matter. Chris may change, but Felix is sure that he’ll always be his beloved older brother. Time alters everyone, but Felix believes strongly that the good inside them never disappears. And Chris is one of best people out there. So he will always be Chris, no matter how many Moons may pass before they meet again.

Felix reaches the edge of the forest with a sigh of relief. As he steps into the first line of trees, a gust of cool air ruffles his hair giving him a slight reprieve from the everlasting heat. He loves the Sun and how its’ rays feel on his skin, but the chill of the woods is a welcome change too, and he revels in it until he reaches his destination.

The hut is small, its’ walls almost blending in with the colour of foliage surrounding it, but the path is often frequented and clearly visible in the grass. Felix walks up to the door, green because of the vines that grow on it, and knocks once, twice, three times, creating a melody of sorts. He does it every single time. She’ll know it’s him.

“Come in, young dragon. I’m almost finished,” The Witch says after the door opens with a creek. Felix cocks his head at the name, but shrugs – she always says weird things no one understands.

When Felix walks into the small room, for a moment he’s stunned by the wave of smells that hits him. The old woman is already standing with her back to him mixing some herbs on the table. The boy feels droplets of sweat form on his skin again as he realizes the fire is burning bright in the fireplace on the far wall, even though it’s barely noon. There’s a cauldron handing over the flames, with steam rising out of it. Some sort of a mixture is boiling inside, bubbles popping on its’ surface from time to time.

_Hmm… Interesting._

The Witch is busy, and it seems like she won’t finish for some time. Felix needs something to occupy himself with in the meantime. Surely, she wouldn’t mind if he checked it out. Just looking should be fine. Right? Still, he walks over to the fireplace with light footsteps, trying not to make any sound.

The mixture is brown, the colour of dry branches Felix’s mom always uses to start a fire back at home. He reaches out, slowly, so that The Witch doesn’t detect any movement. He’s pretty sure she still has her back to him, so if he just gently touches the mixture and then retracts his palm, she shouldn’t notice anything amiss. He’s almost there, only a couple millimetres separate his fingertips from brushing the surface. Just a little more and he’ll-

A loud slap echoes in his ears before he even realizes what has happened. His right palm is tingling slightly from the hit and a wrinkled hand is holding his wrist in a strong grip as he’s being pulled away from the cauldron roughly.

Oh. She must have better hearing than he thought.

“Do you wish to test your luck, you lucky boy? These things are not for you to touch. You’d only get burned.” The Witch sits him down forcefully on a stool next to the table in the middle of the room and goes back to grinding different herbs in a mortar. “You should find something else to occupy your time if you’re getting urges to take something that isn’t yours. Don’t you normally blab the whole time? Tell me something now.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Felix answers with a pout. He’s not a blabbermouth. He’s not. It’s just that sometimes he sees such beautiful things in the forest he can’t help but want to share them with other people. Is that so bad? Chris has always only laughed when Felix got too into a story he was telling.

“Didn’t that bright boy teach you anything? Or did he just tell you meaningless tales?”

“His stories weren’t meaningless!” Felix exclaims indignantly. Villagers always liked ridiculing Chris for all the time he spent reading and everything he said, saying he’s just a child that shouldn’t concern himself with adult matters. They never understood. Most of them were probably a lot dumber than Chris!

The Witch glances up and raises her eyebrows at him as she continues making the medicine. For some reason, she’s looking at him like she’s seeing him for the first time, somehow pensive, her eyes open wide and calculating. “You speak the truth, but for the wrong reasons.”

“What do you mean?” Felix asks, curiosity evident in his voice.

The corners of her mouth tilt up slightly, but she turns around quickly to reach for some herb on the shelf, and Felix tells himself he must’ve just imagined it. The Witch doesn’t smile like that, broadly and showing her gums. She just… doesn’t. “Humans like all stories and folk tales, always have, but they stupidly treat them just as such. All those tales came from somewhere and history likes to repeat itself. Nobody seems to remember this nowadays.”

Felix looks up at the ceiling, turning the sentences over in his head. “Chris will change the world,” he says softly, but it rings loud and clear in the quiet hut.

“I’m sure he will, one day,” she agrees with him and for some reason, Felix feels like she believes in those words as well. When she glances at him again there’s something else in her eyes, but Felix is too young and knows people too little to realize what it is yet. “So, what are some stories you can recall?”

“There was one about a fae who trusted a human and lost a wing. About a mermaid that fell in love with a mute boy.” Felix falls silent for a minute as he tries to recall another one. “Oh!” he gasps. “I know! There was also my favourite one! It’s about a prince of the Southern Kingdom. His father was very strict, so he was forced to prove himself worthy of the throne before his father accepted him as a heir. An oracle said he had to defeat the last dragon that had hidden in the mountains, so he went to find it. He had many adventures on the way – he even met the faerie queen, you know?”

“After a search that lasted many years, he finally discovered its’ cave. But do you know what he did? He didn’t kill it but decided to talk to it respectfully, as it was the last of its’ kind. The dragon was so surprised that he promised to give him anything he wanted as an expression of gratitude. But the prince didn’t want anything for himself, just asked the creature to help the people, who had been struggling with poverty. Touched by his kindness, the dragon roared and the ground shook and split beneath its’ claws and water came other of the ground and flew down onto the plains in the northern part of the kingdom. And the water soaked into the desert that was once there and made the soil fertile again, so that the crops saved people from starvation that was upon them. The dragon then promised the boy he would help if he asked for it and disappeared into the sky. The prince then became the kindest and most beloved king in history of the Southern Kingdom.” Felix’s enthusiasm drops as he remembers the ending of the story. “Later, a general became evil and jealous of the kind king’s ruling so he tried to take control of the country by killing the royal family and their servants. Fortunately, a nanny fled the massacre with the king’s youngest son, who later got the throne back, so the bloodline didn’t disappear.”

The Witch hums thoughtfully and for a moment the only things breaking the silence are the boiling mixture on the fireplace and the rhythmic thumps whenever the pestle hits the mortar as the woman works. “Do you know what happened later? After the massacre?” she asks.

“What do you mean?” Felix dangles his legs. If he bends his ankles and points his feet as low as he can, the tips of his toes touch the ground. They didn’t the last time he was here. Huh. He must have grown.

“Well, the story doesn’t end there, right? Someone still has to get rid of the tyrant and save the Kingdom.”

“Isn’t it the King’s son? After he grows up?” Felix brushes his toes against the soil that is the hut’s floor again. If he’s tall enough maybe they’ll finally allow him to help in the field. He always got stuck with the girls watching the animals and he couldn’t wait to be allowed to work with the other men on more important, grown-up tasks like harvesting.

The Witch continues making the medicine, not looking up from her work. “No, it wasn’t the son. He did take the throne when he was a bit older, but he wasn’t the one who killed the usurper. Would you believe me if I told you it was actually the tyrant’s daughter?”

“Really? That’s awesome,” Felix says and glances up, but he gets distracted by the way the flames on the fireplace move constantly. It makes them look like people dancing, boys jumping around and girls swirling their long skirts. Even though most heroes in his stories were male, Chris has told him many times that women can be even greater warriors than men and to always respect them. Women are strong and courageous. Young girls not so much. Rosé always keeps going about how she hates avocados because they’re green and mushy when they watch the sheep together. Hopefully he won’t have to do that for much longer and be allowed to work in the fields full time with the older men. For now, he can only help them when there’s a lot of work, but he wishes he could stay there always. It’s the work for real men, not children.

“Awesome, you say? Maybe to you. Not so much to her.” There’s a sharpness in The Witch’s tone that wasn’t there before, and it makes Felix focus on her again.

He’s curious, but his tone is soft and gentle when he speaks, not wanting to make the old woman angrier than she suddenly seems to be. “But she saved the Kingdom. Her dad wasn’t a good man.”

“If you put it like that, then maybe you’re right.” The Witch turns around, focusing on her work once more, probably wanting it to be the end of their conversation. Her back is stooped, and her robe hangs loosely on her frame. He sometimes forgets how old she must be because she never seems to show any fatigue or complain like the old ladies that always sit around the square when he walks by. Maybe he should ask one day if she needs some help collecting the herbs.

A silence falls between them broken only with a _pop pop_ coming from the cauldron from time to time as Felix looks around. He’s been in the hut many times already, but the numerous jars on the shelves and the herbs hanging from the ceiling never fail to make the ambience mysterious. If magic actually existed in the real world and not just in stories, Felix reckons that The Witch would make the strongest wizard of them all, even as a woman. Or especially as a woman, says a voice in his head that sounds eerily like Chris. Felix smiles to himself.

“How did she do it?” he asks as he glances back at her, his fingers playing with the hem of his shorts in order to keep themselves busy. He shouldn’t try touching anything without permission again. Felix remembers the later part of Chris’ story now and the older boy never mentioned anything about the tyrant’s daughter. It followed the young prince as he grew up and his adventures before he took over the throne after the usurper’s death.

The Witch sighs when it becomes apparent that he’s waiting for her to continue. Felix is not someone who’ll just let a good story pass right under his nose. “Well, as she was growing up, she realised that the loving man she knew as her father became more and more cruel and greedy as the time went by. When he killed the King and took the throne for himself, she knew he wouldn’t be a good ruler. But she also knew that she got her intelligence from him, so killing him wouldn’t be easy. Since she wasn’t strong enough to do it outright, she chose a different way and studied witchcraft and legends for a long time. She managed to find a ring, a very old one that the late king used to always wear on his finger, a heirloom of the royal family. She knew it would suck the life energy out of anyone it deemed unworthy, weakening them and later killing. So she gifted it to her father on his birthday and he started slowly withering away. When he was on his deathbed, he called for her and told her he loved her the most in the whole world. In that moment the girl realised how horrible her deed was. Her father might’ve been a tyrant for the nation, but he had never given her anything but love and warmth, and she repaid him by poisoning him. She took the ring, walked to the cliff and threw it into the ocean. And then, filled with grief and shame, she jumped off and vanished under the surface along with the cursed object.”

“And what happened later?” Felix wipes drops of sweat from his temple. It’s really hot in the hut, with the burning fireplace raising the already high temperature.

“What do you mean?” The Witch shrugs. “The tyrant died, her body along with the ring were never found, but people didn’t really wish to find them. Then the King’s offspring took the throne, and everyone lived happily ever after.”

There’s a sad note in her voice, one that he knows well. It’s the same tone his mom spoke in whenever he asked about his dad, back when he was younger and did not know better. Maybe the Witch is not as heartless as everyone says. “Not everyone. The daughter died,” he says quietly, watching her reaction.

The older woman just shrugs her shoulders again as she continues to make the medicine. “They would’ve killed her anyways. She was the daughter of the usurper.”

Felix can almost see out of the corner of his eye a figure of Chris with fists clenched and brows furrowed. Hearing of injustice always left him like that, leaving Felix to be the one to take the edge off his anger. “Just for that? What if she’d had truly done nothing wrong?”

“Even then. Innocence can’t protect you in this world, little dragon.”

He scrunches his nose at the nickname. “Why do you always call me that?” Felix asks her, watching as she grinds the last of the dried herbs together. The powder is the colour of grass on the hill, a green with yellow undertones because there’s never enough water in Straya, not for the plants and not for the people. He knows what to do with it by now – add a spoonful of the dust to a jug of water, mix, and drink it during the day. Felix doesn’t know how it works, but he trusts the Witch, probably more than he should.

“Call you what?” The Witch replies, and if he were Chris, he might’ve heard the sad lilt of her voice as she says that and question her about it, but Felix is not him and he’s too focused on her hands as she transfers the medicine into a small jar. It’s fascinating.

“Lucky,” he answers watching her fingers attentively. She’s handling the glass vessel with utmost care, just like a young mother would handle her child. He absently wonders if she ever had any family. “And a dragon…”

“Because you are lucky, boy. After all, I’m going to give you this medicine for free.” The Witch turns around with the jar held tightly in her wrinkled palms. At the sight of it, Felix immediately forgets she did not address the second part of his question.

“Really?” he asks surprised as he jumps down from the chair, the other nickname she calls him by already forgotten. The Witch was never greedy, but she also was not generous – if you wanted her help you needed to pay adequately. She always said that there is nothing in this world that you’ll get for free.

“Yes. You’ll return the favour one day, don’t you worry. And now get out of my sight before I change my mind,” she answers handing him the medicine.

Felix takes it, giggling as he runs out of the hut. Maybe he’ll find some new flowers on the way home. And if there’s an empty space by his side that he can’t ignore as he follows the familiar path once again, he doesn’t linger on it. It won’t be empty for much longer.

Chris will be back soon.

The town of Muju, Aid, the Mainland

**Chris**

The sky is blue-grey, the Sun covered by a blanket of dark stormy clouds. It’s not raining yet, but it probably won’t take long before the first drop falls. There’s a curly-haired boy sitting on the side of the road, watching as the carriages roll by and people rush about their daily business. No one pays him any mind, too busy with their own lives. Besides, if he’s an adult he should take care of himself. And if he’s not… Well, everyone has their hardships, life’s not fair, yadda yadda – whatever platitude you need to silence that useless distracting part of you they call conscience.

Another carriage rolls down the road and its wheels cause clouds of dust to rise from the ground, their shapes similar to the demons from stories adults scare their children with.

Chris coughs, trying uselessly to clear his lungs of the floating dust. He’s been sitting in this spot for quite some time now and he should get going soon, but there’s one small problem – he has no idea what to do about his situation. It has already been more than few weeks since he arrived in Aid, the country most south on the mainland. Ever since then, he’d been walking around the port town and trying to find some information by listening in on other’s conversations, but nothing came out of it. He only managed to earn enough to buy food for himself, helping to carry boxes onto the ships for a couple coins, but other than that… No success.

He spent the remaining money from his last job the day before and now he has nothing left. He’s sitting on the side of the street and watching the carriages as they roll by him as he contemplates his next movement. He’s managed to search through all of the coast, but it bore no fruits. No one had what he wanted, no one even had any information on where to look for it. He shouldn’t think it was disappointing – he never expected his voyage to be so easy or short, but he can’t help but feel the bitter disappointment rise in his chest. Not even at the lack of success, but at how unwilling to help him people had been. It was as if just answering a few questions would cause their business to fail or something.

Maybe it would’ve been better if he knew exactly what he was looking for, but he doesn’t. _For help_, his brain supplies unhelpfully. Yeah, right. Cause that’s obviously a great answer.

“What are you doing here, son?” Chris suddenly hears a loud, booming voice from above and he flinches. He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice anyone approaching him. “It’s gonna rain soon, ya’ better be getting home.”

Chris looks up at the figure hovering over him. It’s a man, probably in his forties with a warm smile on a sunburned face and dressed in travel clothes. His eyes form crescents, making him look friendly and harmless, but Chris can see the intelligence in them. Not to mention the short blade that’s strapped to his waist.

“If it’s going to rain soon, why are you still here?” he answers slowly, measuring his words. Chris has his daggers, but he has never fought another person before, and the man is probably a lot more experienced. He has to thread carefully.

The stranger grins even wider, clasping his hands in front of him. “Ooh, cheeky. I like cheeky boys like you. Say, aren’t you the one they say is looking for a job?”

Chris straightens his back and carefully lays his hand on his right ankle, next to where he has a knife hidden in his boot. He may be starving, but there are some jobs he is still not willing to take, but he’s not stupid enough to believe that if a man is looking for such… favours, he’ll take rejection kindly. Suddenly the smile on the traveller’s face doesn’t seem so kind anymore. It reminds Chris of a fox. “I’m sorry, sir, but you seem to be mistaken. You’d have better luck looking in the Red District, I’m sure you’d find someone willing there.”

A tense silence falls between them for a few seconds before the man bursts into laughter. Chris’ hand tightens around the handle of his weapon.

“Oh, boy, don’t worry about me, if I wanted something like that, I’d definitely not come here looking for you,” the elder is still giggling as he wipes tears of mirth from his eyes. “What a great joke, my late wife would have never believed that,” his gaze suddenly sharpens as he bends down to bring himself to Chris’ eyelevel. “What I’m searching for is not a boytoy, but a storyteller.”

“A storyteller?” Chris repeats confused. Stories where never his passion, he preferred reading about the real world and not legends about dragons and magic. But he ended up learning a lot of them, because of a certain someone back home that wouldn’t stop whining unless Chris told him a bedside story.

“Yes. You’re not from around here, are you?”

Chris narrows his eyes. It’s not legal to travel through the mainland without a permission slip. But people from Oss never seem to get it, no matter how much money they have so Chris didn’t even bother trying with his background. The wars are long behind them, but the differences and discrimination didn’t just disappear in times of peace. “And what if I’m not?” he answers. While in the Northern and Southern Kingdoms being a foreigner is punished by death, people in Aid do not care as much. Trade and money are what’s most important around here, so he doesn’t deny but doesn’t admit anything either.

“Ya ain’t stupid, boy, I can see it in your eyes. Someone like you would’ve prepared for a long time before they left their home. So you must have some stories to tell.”

Chris isn’t sure how to answer that, so he settles on the first thing that comes to mind. “You don’t look like you’re from around here either.” The elder’s sleeves and robe are long, covering almost his whole body from head to toe and he’s wearing a big hat, but you can still see the yellowish tint of the skin on his face. The same yellowish tint that is characteristic of those who come from the Southern Kingdom.

_Though looking at his clothes, he probably does have permission to travel. Chris, you can do better than that weak defence, get a grip. You won’t survive for long at this rate._

“You’re right, but I’m travelling on business and I’m busy the whole day. My son, on the other hand, is not. And as I won’t let him leave his cart because of his sickly body, he spends all the time I manage to spare him complaining that he’s dying of boredom. And to be honest, one may find his whining very cute in the beginning, but it is starting to drive me crazy.”

Huh, Chris thinks. What a weird merchant, who takes his son with him to another country but doesn’t let him out of the cart. But what does this have to do with Chris? The man seems to be waiting for a response, so he settles on the first thing that comes to mind. “How old is your son?”

“Ten.” So that would make him the same age as Felix is now. (Felix will be eleven in just 6 Moons from now, the first birthday of his life he’ll be forced to spend without Chris if Chris doesn’t _hurry up_ and find what he’s looking for). “So what you say, boy? You’ve got any stories to entertain my son with while we travel? It’s not like there’s anything keeping you here and I’d provide you with adequate pay.”

Chris glances up at the sky. When he was around ten himself, he’d skipped work in one day and taken a 7-year-old Felix with him to the cliff behind their village. Back then, there was a huge storm out in the ocean, dangerous and fierce and beautiful and they sat on the edge for hours just watching it from safe distance. Chris had learned about it from the movements of the stars and he knew it would be far enough from their island to not touch them. He would never have brought the younger if he thought they might be in danger.

The sky looked the same on that day, dark and cloudy and the wind was merciless when they sat on the cliff. The cold gusts pierced their clothes and skin making the younger boy shiver slightly before Chris noticed and gave him his jacket. Chris remembers thinking then that maybe this wasn’t a good idea, that maybe Felix won’t like it and almost suggesting that they get back to work.

But Felix had just looked at him with a huge smile and small hands hidden in the sleeves of a too-big jacket and said, “Won’t you tell me a story?”

The man has stood back up and is tapping his foot impatiently. Thunder growls somewhere afar. It’s going to rain soon.

If he’s a merchant that means they’ll travel around Aid to different ports. It will let Chris cover a lot more ground than he could by himself and maybe he’ll get paid on top of that. It’s an incredible opportunity, at least if the man is telling the truth.

He doesn’t hesitate any longer, afraid the stranger will change his mind. “Sure. I’ll do it.”

“Well,” the man replies, smile back on his face, and reaches his hand out for Chris to take. “Then I guess we have a deal, boy.”

* * *

The caravan is huge. Okay, maybe not terribly, but there are at least dozen wagons filled with goods and you rarely see such caravans around these parts. Many thieves would love a loot like that. Judging from the number of heavily armoured men hanging around the fire in the middle of the clearing, probably mercenaries hired to protect it, the merchant knows it too.

“This is all my money, boy. Every coin in the goods from the Kingdom that are hidden in these wagons. I’m hoping to visit all the ports and bigger cities in Aid to sell them and hopefully earn more than I spent when I bought them. There’s no place for trade in the Southern Kingdom, because the people are too mistrustful and lately poverty has become a huge problem after the Norther Kingdom has completely closed its’ borders. Thankfully there are three kingdoms here on the Mainland and people of Aid are true businessmen,” he laughs as he says that.

They get closer to the carts and start walking next to them. The man doesn’t stop talking and Chris is starting to realize he’ll have to get used to it. “Shortly after my wife died, I sold everything we had and took my son on this trip. Our house reminded me too much of her and we couldn’t stay. Spending all my savings and the kindness of my friends allowed me to buy these cars and get here. This is all I have in this world.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Chris asks when the merchant quiets for a moment to nod his head at the mercenaries as they pass them.

The man doesn’t answer for a while, but his expression turns thoughtful as he looks at Chris. “Do you have someone waiting for you to return home?” Chris hears a high-pitched giggle in the back of his mind, but he ignores it. He must learn to live in the present instead of just relieving memories. The quicker he stops thinking about Felix and home every five minutes, the quicker he’ll accomplish what he must and return.

Still. He doesn’t wish to lie. “I do,” Chris answers quietly.

“Then why are you here?” The merchant asks, cocking his head to the side, interested visibly piqued.

There are many possible answers to this question and while the merchant didn’t give him any reason not to trust him, he also doesn’t know him well enough yet, so he settles on something in between. “I’m looking for something.”

The man stares at Chris again but doesn’t prod any further. “Ain’t we all, boy. Ain’t we all,” he sighs. They stop at the second to last cart. It’s smaller than the others, but with wooden walls and ceiling instead of the normal piece of cloth. It must be someone’s sleeping quarters.

“This is where my son lives. The doctor forbids him from going out in this heat so he barely leaves it. And just to warn you – because of his frail health, he’s undergoing a treatment from doctors form faraway countries. I don’t remember exactly what it’s called. But because of it, talking is quite hard for him, so you probably won’t ever hear a sound. But don’t let it deter you. If you sit here-” the man points at the driver’s seat, “he’ll hear your every word. And he’ll listen.”

“Ok,” Chris says, uncertain what else to do. The elder is gesturing at him to climb into the seat, so he quickly complies.

“Ah,” the merchant suddenly exclaims after grabbing the reins of the horses.

He’s still smiling, but to Chris, who’s quite disoriented, it sounds ominous.

“What?” The boy asks.

“I’ve forgotten to ask earlier, but it’s kind of a crucial thing. Do you speak the language of the Southern Kingdom? My son has yet to learn other dialects, so you would be only able to talk to him using it.” So they are from Southern Kingdom. Huh. Chris wonders where from exactly. Southern Kingdom is very big, encompassing the lands from the mountains in the east to the ocean, spreading north until the border with the Northern Kingdom somewhere in the Great Plain.

“I do speak it,” he replies. He thanks whatever gods are out there for that. He just learnt it out of spite, but now it’s actually useful.

“Then it’s perfect,” the man smiles. “Now, sit there, I need to check up on the other wagons. We’re leaving soon.” He pats Chris leg in what is most likely supposed to be a reassuring gesture and puts the horse’s reins into his hands. “Driving this thing is not that hard to be honest, even if you’ve never done it before. It’s kinda the same as riding a horse, ya know?”

On the subject of horseback riding… Chris has never ridden a horse before.

Well…

Whatever.

He’ll manage. Somehow.

Chris swallows and opens his mouth, but the merchant doesn’t even give him time to formulate an answer and leaves him alone with the disinterested horse munching on a small patch of grass and a carriage that supposedly houses a young bored boy. Chris watches his retreating back before shrugging and settling into a more comfortable position on the bench.

“So…” he clears his throat as he glances at the barrier of wood behind his back separating him from the son. He wonders if it’s all a lie and there’s actually no one there, the merchant’s story seeming quite suspicious. He’s heard of people who refuse to accept their loved-ones death and continue making meals for two or talking to them. Maybe the man lost his son?

Well. If Chris gets to travel with the caravan and some money, he reckons it doesn’t really matter whether or not he’ll spend his days talking to himself.

_Here goes nothing._

“There once was a boy who couldn’t speak, so he went to the sea every day to listen to the waves, but one afternoon he heard something else – a voice that seemed to come from under the surface…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry?
> 
> I might've lost around 30k of writing right after publishing the prologue because my laptop broke and I admit I kinda gave up on this story... But recently I realised that some people actually followed and bookmarked it and maybe somewhere, someone still wants to read this, so I can't leave you like this XD Plus the amount of world building that I did for this story is kind of insane - I even have a map of this world somewhere. If someone wants to see it and track where Chan or Felix are as I'll be putting the places in all the chapters, let me know, I'll see about adding it to the fic then.
> 
> Rewriting this might take a while, but I'll try my hardest to finish it. I still have the first 4 chapters though, so if I disappear for a long time again, then feel free to demad them soon.


	3. Before I fall asleep forever (평생 잠들기 전까지)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to die with regrets

The 8th Moon of the Year 3512 MM, Day 13

Straya, the Isles of Oss

**Felix**

From his spot on the windowsill, Felix can see the whole village laid out before him as rays of the setting sun make images dance on the far wall of the room behind him. Dozens of rickety wooden huts that have been here for longer than he’s been alive, with the Church standing tall in the middle of it all. He knows all the shortcuts by heart, the dirt paths in between buildings familiar – he’s run on them ever since he could walk. These are the streets he used to play on with Chris, where he would accompany the elder on all his errands. It’s been so long since then.

Now, it’s late in the afternoon and the unbearable heat has turned into something more manageable. It’s still a bit too warm, but Felix has lived here all his life – too warm is all he knows. Although the village is probably busy at this time, the house sits at the very edge of it and here, it’s calm and quiet.

The room he’s in is small and almost cluttered with how many things there are here. There’s a large rickety bookcase by the wall, straining under the weight of the books it carries, a wooden closet and all kinds of small objects scattered across the floor. The biggest piece of furniture is the bed in the middle of the room, big enough to house two boys talking in the moonlight if it needs to and also hard enough to give them back pains the next morning. Felix knows this too well.

Right now, it’s Grace that lays curled up on it, her long hair like a halo around her head.

Her long strands are completely straight, which is something Chris had always been jealous of, back in the day. One time, over a Moon ago, Felix walked into the house to see her standing in front of the one expensive item in the Bang’s household – a mirror, trying to curl it. He quietly retreated and when he came back an hour later, she was lying in her bed, more depressed than usual. It wouldn’t curl no matter how hard she tried.

As of late, Felix has been spending all his evenings here, sitting either on the windowsill or somewhere on the floor. What used to be Chris’ room is now his younger sister’s, because that’s where Grace decided to sleep once he left. She can’t really get out of the bed anymore, so he spends hours upon hours on the floor next to it, telling her everything he once learnt from her older brother.

He tries, but… It’s not much. A lot of Chris’ stories feel lacking because he’s usually narrated them to Felix outside, in between teaching him how to swim or how to climb trees. All the tales had been accompanied by his comparisons to the world Felix could see and now that he can’t say to Grace ‘the bird that carried the message looked a bit like this one, but it was the colour of those reddish stones near the spring’, because she has never been further from her bed than those rare trips to the backyard when she was younger, they seem to lose most of their magic.

Felix feels sad as he looks at the pale, skinny girl on the bed that has yet to feel the harshness of the earth on the fields as it crumbles in one’s fingers or the cold waves of the ocean that soak you to the core in her life. She’s never been there. At the same time, he’s kind of glad she’s locked in these four walls, away from the world outside. Recently, the summers have been getting harsher and the people along with them. The community used to be open to all (well, to _most_) and everyone had been on at least semi-friendly terms, but with the merciless sun shining down and drying the soil, it seems that companionship has flown out of the window.

His house and mom are still there, along with the Bang household, but the village feels a lot less like home without a hand ruffling his hair and stories told in a familiar voice.

He glances down at the piece of parchment in his hand. The letter had come the day before yesterday, but Felix’s duties kept him with too little spare time to read it. Now, Grace is asleep and her mother went to the butcher’s leaving the house in Felix’s care, so he has the opportunity to look through it.

The letter is similar to the last message they got a few weeks ago. It seems that Chris is still travelling through Aid with the same merchant he met soon after getting to the Mainland. They’ve been on the road together for a while now and Felix’s glad that he found a way to have food and shelter and travel at the same time. The merchant sounds like a good person too, and he has a son, though Chris barely mentioned the boy, something about him being too sick to leave his cabin.

The contents of the letter are a light-hearted story from his travels, the way all his previous letters had been. He manages to always write about some funny excursion or encounter he had, so that they can have a good laugh when they read it. He wants them stop worrying about him, that’s clear. Chris is simply that kind of a person, never mentioning any hardships or problems, not wanting to burden them.

Felix smiles. No matter how much distance is between them, or how much time passes, Chris is still Chris, the older brother he’s known all his life. The knowledge that he hasn’t changed eases something in his chest and his smile becomes wider, truer. He will also stay the same smiling Felix he’s always been, the way he had promised.

Suddenly, he hears a noise from the house. Something is scratching on the door to the room quite intently, asking to be let in.

Felix sighs and jumps down from the windowsill lightly, quietly, so that he doesn’t wake the sleeping girl. Of course, the little beast is back as soon as he’s the oldest person in the house. It must have a sixth sense for that, or something.

“You know you can’t be here,” he whispers once he cracks open the door slightly but knows he does not really have much say in this. “At least be quiet, Grace is asleep,” Felix adds, feeling the animal pass in between his legs.

The cat is an ugly thing, with a too long tangled fur, ribs sticking out its side and a half of its right ear missing. It probably got the scars from fighting with other cats and it’s still aggressive with anyone that isn’t Grace, letting Felix close only after weeks of trying and even then, he’s not allowed to touch it still. Maybe this is why she named it Dragon (or maybe it was because she knows Felix well and which of the legends is his favourite – but this stays unsaid).

It’s not supposed to be here. Chris’ mother hates the dirty animal and doesn’t want to waste precious food on feeding it, but Grace keeps going behind her back to do it. Everyone knows it, but no one has the heart to stop her. Not when whenever she sees it, the most beautiful and bright smile shows up on her face. Her eyes turn into crescents, her dimples show up and she seems to glow.

To Felix, she looks like her older brother in those moments.

But it’s not fair, he shouldn’t think like that. Grace is her own person and even though before Chris left, Felix mostly knew her just as his younger sister, now that he’s gone she’s so much more. She’s kind and funny like Chris, but also so much calmer than him, gentler. More fragile. Not as angry as him.

Ever since Chris’ departure Felix’s started taking care of her more and he’s learnt to love her like his own younger sibling. It’s hard not to adore her, to be honest. And he should- He really should stop thinking about Chris every 5 seconds.

At the same time, it’s not bringing any harm, so… No one has to know if he does.

The little beast crosses the room and curls up on the floor next to the bookcase, in that spot where none of the floorboards creak even if you move around a lot. Felix smiles slightly to himself and comes to sit down in the space next to it, like he’s done hundreds of times before.

“That used to be Chris’ favourite place, you know that?” They used to spend evenings here when Felix was really young, sitting next to each other on the floor. This is where Chris read him his first stories and told him about Straya’s traditions, where he taught little Felix how to read and write and count.

When he glances to the side, the cat merely flicks its one whole ear at him in response and starts licking its back legs, starting its cleaning routine.

Of course, it doesn’t know any of that. It wasn’t even here before Chris left. Felix had been coming back from the Witch’s hut 3 Moons ago when the little creature followed him for the first time to the Bang’s household and he didn’t even realize he let it inside until it somehow landed in Grace’s lap. After that, Dragon had just kept coming every day.

“He’s been gone for almost 2 years now.” 1 year, 10 Moons and 9 Suns. Not that Felix’s been keeping track. “That’s a lot of time for me and even more for you, right? He sends letters, but… it’s not the same.”

He looks at the piece of parchment once more. Chris is travelling, so it is impossible to send him a response, since they cannot predict where to the caravan will wander next. He wishes he could write back, tell him how long Grace’s hair has gotten, how the family a few houses down has a new-born son now, maybe even mention offhandedly that Felix’s own coming of age ceremony is nearing and ask if Chris will be back to take part in it. Felix had never imagined he wouldn’t be there.

Still… This isn’t that bad. It’s calming, if anything. It’s harder to read between the lines written on paper than it was to gaze into Chris’ eyes or watch the line of his shoulders to gauge his feelings, but he truly seems fine. Safe at least, with the merchant and his son, and that’s all Felix can ask for.

Dragon has moved on from his back legs to his stomach. Felix sighs and leans on the wall tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. “It’s a weird thing, right? Time. How it passes and how we choose to spend it. The village people say that time is money… Money, money, it’s always about it. Wanna know a secret?” Felix hates how bitter his smile becomes, but he cannot help it. “I hate it. How they always only talk about it. Like it’s the most important thing in the world.”

He glances towards the bed. The Sun must have gone down a bit more and the rays moved from the wall to illuminate Grace’s silhouette. There’s something glinting in the light – it’s the necklace she got all those years ago from Chris. It reflects the light, creating colourful spots on the wall.

“Almost 5 Moons… She’s grown in that time. I did as well. Do you think he’d be surprised by how much taller I am?” Dragon is still ignoring him, finishing his routine by licking his front paws. Felix smiles at how focused he is. “I’m stupid… He could not see both of us for 10 or even 100 Moons and he’d still recognise us in an instant. He’s Chris after all.”

In his head he hears a familiar laugh. _Oi, Lix, you’re talking to cats about me now? Are you that lonely without me? _Felix’s smile turns a bit sadder, because, well… Maybe he is.

The animal has finally finished and is now resting its head on the floor looking up at him. Dragon’s eyes are a weird mix of gray, green and blue as it blinks at Felix. There’s something different about this cat, a light in its gaze that makes it seem like it almost understands. From time to time, when Felix talks to it like this, he has the strangest impression the animal is listening.

“Hey, Dragon… You’re a cat, so I don’t think you’ll tell my secrets to anyone, right?” Felix giggles quietly. Chris had told him legends about animals that could talk. It’d be cool if Dragon was one of them. Although looking at its antisocial tendencies, it would’ve probably just told him to be quiet and leave it alone then. “I have a dream, you know? The world is wide, so one day, when Chris comes back and Grace is well enough to travel, we could go see it. Chris could show us all the place he visited on this trip and then we’d go even further, to lands that don’t have maps yet. Maybe even we’d go to the west and look for their father. There has to be a place somewhere were people care more about each other than money.”

There must be, right? Felix believes that there is. When he looks down at the animal again, he gets a ridiculous idea that makes him smile brightly again. “Say… Would you come with us, then? Maybe you could turn into an actual dragon, so we’d be able to sit on your back and travel miles upon miles in a short time, huh? That’d be pretty convenient.”

Dragon just curls up and promptly goes to sleep.

Felix shakes his head fondly at it. He tries to imagine the cat as an ancient beast, with huge wings spread and sharp claws that could slice through stone, but its’ fur somehow refuses to transform into scales in his mind, so Felix ends up with a picture of a furry dragon the size of a house. The creature’s indignant expression is so close to Dragon’s actual face that when he opens his eyes, it makes him burst into laughing. So loud, that he actually does manage to wake Grace up, who proceeds to whine about her nap being interrupted.

All in all, life’s not that bad.

A small village near Mount Jiri, Aid, the Mainland

**Chris**

Things are not going great.

It’s been only a week or two since he’s parted with the caravan and continued his travel alone along the border. They must’ve crossed it by now, taking the Main Tract into the Southern Kingdom, but Chris hadn’t been lucky enough to find another safe passage. The border between Aid and the Kingdom is lined with high, treacherous mountains, which is why it’s so hard to cross it illegally and why it’s not as well guarded – trying to traverse them would only end in sure death.

Well. If you don’t know a safe path, that is. But things like that are rare and the knowledge of them well-guarded and expensive, so Chris is still looking for even a rumour.

The merchant had offered to smuggle him through the border, but it was illegal and punished by death if they got caught, and Chris didn’t want to put him in danger. The old man reminded him of his own father and the miles they travelled together brought them quite close. And he simply wasn’t that kind of a person, who could put others in danger just for his own gain.

So Chris had just hugged the merchant, knocked on his son’s door in goodbye and left a few miles before they reached the border. He got a small pouch with Sothern Kingdom’s money from them and was forced to swear that he’ll visit their small home on the west coast one day. One of the mercenaries, an old soldier that offered to teach Chris fighting halfway through the trip had also gifted him with an old sword of his.

Of course, to ever get to visit the merchant in his home, he’d have to cross the border first and it’s been proving to be much more difficult than he first anticipated. Turns out there are no glaring signs by the side of the road saying ‘the illegal way to cross the border’. Go figure.

Right before leaving the village, Chris had visited the Witch trying to ask for her advice. She was probably a lot older even than the elders of the village and no one knew where she came from, so he thought she might know more about the world. But all he got was random sentences he couldn’t understand the meaning of, like “familiarize yourself with the spear and learn about the cities for they are essential for your success” or “the treasure of this universe will help you find yourself”. To the question about how to cross the border she just answered, “the vast heaven will guide you”.

_And the vast heaven will guide you across the border._ Bullshit. He keeps looking at the sky, but he doesn’t see a miraculous pathway. And the days pass, time flowing like water through his fingers, and he’s still here, in some nameless village near the border. In his search he ventured as far north as he could go and now that he reached the last stretch of land before the border, he doesn’t know what to do.

Chris realizes how trying to cross blindly would only lead to him being buried in an avalanche or falling into a valley, so he does the only thing he can – he asks around. He’s been doing that since he reached this village a few day ago, which lead him to where he is now, arguing with the owner of the small run-down tavern near the edge of the town.

Arguing about money, of course. Because it’s what this world revolves around and Chris should stop sighing every time something like this happens, because it does nothing besides make him more impatient and angrier.

The owner of the inn is an old fat man with most of his teeth missing that smells eerily like sweat and mould with a touch of… Pineapples? It results in a stench that makes Chris nauseous, but he plasters a polite smile on his face because, he really fucking needs to have this information.

“Money’s important boy. If ya don’t have it than I can’t help you. But my stable boy just ran away with some girl – ya can take his place. You could maybe earn enough to pay me for the information you want.”

Chris grits his teeth in frustration. This will get him nowhere. “No, thank you for the offer, but I don’t have time to wait.”

“Suit yourself, boy,” the owner grumbles, offended, and leaves, going back behind the counter to man the bar.

Chris clenches his fists in anger but starting a brawl in the middle of the tavern with the owner no less would be a very bad idea, so he just turns and finds a seat on a bench by the wall near the entrance. He needs to figure out what to do instead of just getting mad all the time.

Right then, he hears a young voice speaking quietly in the language of the Sothern Kingdom. “I can’t see why you expected him to help you if you didn’t have anything to offer him. But you’re lucky that he offered you a job – you could just do it and in a few Moons, you’d get what you need.” There’s a boy sitting in a shadowed alcove to Chris’ right. Because of his hood, his face is shrouded in darkness, but judging from his voice and body, he can’t be much older than Chris.

Chris answers in the same tongue, choosing his words carefully. “No, I wouldn’t. He’d just try to linger and avoid the subject for Moons until I’d get fed up and leave. It’d just be a waste of time.” He’s gotten better at speaking in the language of the Southern Kingdom, but using it with the merchant made him realize how much he still did not know. He’s nowhere near fluent yet and the thought of the stranger realizing that makes him uneasy for some reason, so he doesn’t talk for long.

The boy is wearing a long black robe that hides almost all of his body, but Chris can see his knee jumping up and down. Is he nervous to be here? Or maybe he just is someone unable to stay still for long periods of time? Chris can’t tell.

“But this isn’t the reason you said no, is it?” The voice is quiet and even, but Chris hears a note of playfulness in it.

Chris narrows his eyes at the stranger. He’s a bit too observant. “I need to find something quick. I don’t have time to stay here and work.” He should be back home by now. He never expected this trip to take so long.

“Sure, sure…” The stranger’s eyes seem to glint in the lights of the inn and it’s obvious he thinks Chris just doesn’t want to work and is simply looking for a way to cross the border to have an adventure. He tilts his head to the right, which causes his hood to move a bit and Chris catches a glance of his lips stretched in a coy smile. It reminds him the way a cat may look at a mouse before he pounces. He doesn’t like it one bit.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Chris growls at the boy. He doesn’t feel like having a conversation about his life with a random traveller. Especially not if they pretend to know everything about him. He’s crossed a whole damn country and is willing to risk travelling to the Southern Kingdom because he needs to find wat he needs to find. He’s not looking for an adventure, just fighting against time. But it keeps flowing, flowing like water and it won’t slow down no matter how tightly he tries to grasp it.

His hands curl into fists when a sudden wave of despair and helplessness seems to fill his lungs like water. He doesn’t let himself feel the homesickness often, he has more important things to think about and the strength of the feeling catches him by surprise. He has to close his eyes, because he’s afraid he’ll start crying if he doesn’t.

_I want to go home._

The sentence, so simple yet so pitiful flutters in his chest like a butterfly, its wings hitting his ribs from the inside. Like the colourful ones he used to catch with Felix, when the boy was barely three years old. The younger would always fail, because back then his balance was awful and he couldn’t be quiet even if he tried and they’d fly away, their wings a smudge of colour on the blue sky. The first time it happened, Chris had been scared for a moment that Felix would start crying, but he had just looked at Chris and laughed. Felix had always been brave in that special kind of way, just smiling where other children cowered.

He buries his fingernails in his palms and focuses on pushing the memories away. This is not the time.

When he opens his eyes again, no more than a few seconds must have passed, but the playful smile on the other’s face is gone, his lips now pressed together in a straight line. Chris can’t see, but he has a hunch that the other is frowning, taken aback by his sudden silence.

Chris is tired, completely drained by the hypocrisy and greed surrounding him since he’s parted with the caravan. It’s only his fault, because he’s forgotten that that’s what the world looks like. That the merchant was an anomaly, his kindness an exception and not a rule. That people weren’t like Felix, who’d help anyone without being asked with a bright smile and gentle hands.

Maybe it’s cause he’s exhausted, maybe it’s something else, he doesn’t know himself. But Chris asks something a bit too close to his heart. “Did you never travel because you had to? Because you needed to find something before you could go back?”

The stranger tilts his head at that. The silence stretches until Chris is almost sure their conversation is over. He still keeps his gaze on the other’s face which is why he manages to catch when the smile returns, although this time it’s different. Not flirtatious anymore, but more genuine. It looks young.

“Come with me,” the boy stands up and rightens his hood so that his face is once again covered in shadow. Chris flinches slightly, surprised by the sudden movement. Just what is this stranger’s game?

“What?” he asks, trying to gauge what the other’s intentions are.

“Come. You’ll see.” The stranger walks gracefully to the door without looking back. Chris isn’t stupid and he realises that following him may not be such a good idea. But he doesn’t really have any other options and the boy speaks the Southern Kingdom’s language like a native. Aid is the land of businessmen and trade – you couldn’t probably find more people who speak so many languages anywhere else in the world. But the boy’s words seem easy, as if he’s speaking in his mother tongue and if he is from the Southern Kingdom he may know the way there, so Chris gets up.

When he walks out, for a moment he thinks he’s been tricked. There’s no sign of the boy and the dark street seems empty and devoid of life. It must be quite late by now, judging by the stars in the sky. But then Chris hears a quiet splash, like someone walking through a puddle left by the rain that fell this afternoon and he follows the sound.

He finds the stranger in a side alley. He’s leaning against the wall of a building, slouching slightly and the position makes Chris realize he misjudged him – it’s just a boy, probably younger than him. He still has his hood on his head, but the shadows aren’t as dark on a starlit street as they were inside the building and he can almost make out his features.

_Why are you here? This young?_

The other straightens a bit when Chris comes closer, but it fails to hide how lithe and skinny he is. He’s even shorter than Chris. “Oh, I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come.”

“What do you want?”

The boy sweeps him with his gaze, appraisingly. Chris doesn’t know what he finds, but he continues. “You’re not the only one who has a goal. I’ll tell you how to get through the border.”

It seems too easy and Chris tenses. Maybe it’s all a trap. There must be bandits around these parts, maybe the boy is one of them. “Why should I trust you?”

“Don’t ask me.” Chris just raises an eyebrow in response. They have a staring contest for a few moments before the boy huffs and drops his gaze onto the ground. Chris can’t help but grin at this small victory. It slips from his face when he hears the other’s next words.

“You said you need to find something before you go back. But you’re not doing this for yourself, right? You left someone and that’s why you’re in such a hurry to find it and come back home,” the boy lifts his head to stare at Chris’ face. He’s probably expecting a response, but Chris knows the widening of his eyes is a sufficient answer.

Maybe Chris is not the only one with homesickness so strong it’s an ever present ache in his bones and that overwhelms him so much sometimes he cannot seem to breathe.

The stranger kicks the ground lightly with his left foot before he continues. “We’re more similar than you’d think,” he shrugs.

The quiet that sets in now is a lot less tense than before. It almost makes Chris relax, calming him in way he hasn’t been since he parted from the caravan.

Chris doesn’t know what compels him to say it, but somehow it feels like the right answer, so he does. “The Witch told me the vast heaven will guide me.” It seems right to share this after the boy’s admission.

There’s silence for a few moments, before the stranger starts laughing. No, not laughing- he’s giggling, the kind of high-pitched childish giggle that seems totally at odds with his earlier behaviour. He lifts his hands and uncovers his head, still chuckling. He’s really- really pretty, is Chris’ first thought. His hair is light brown, almost ashy in a way. It’s quite long but it fails to cover his slightly protruding ears. Now that his hood is down he reminds Chris even more of a cat – there’s something feline in his eyes and face, but also in the way he holds himself.

“Well…” the boy starts speaking again, still chuckling. Chris still isn’t sure what could’ve been so funny about the Witch’s prophecy, but he doesn’t question the other’s behaviour. “I guess you could call me your heaven, but normally people get to know me better first before getting there,” he winks at Chris, but it’s more playful than flirtatious.

Chris just rolls his eyes, for some reason knowing now that the other doesn’t actually mean anything he’s saying. “What do you want in exchange?” he asks, because he doesn’t want to be indebted to a stranger.

“I’m looking for…” the boy starts, before shaking his head, his brows furrowed. He seems to consider something for a moment, but in the end decides against it. “No, you wouldn’t know anything about it. You have nothing that could interest me. But… Maybe one day you’ll repay me.”

And the stranger kneels down in the mud, picking up a stick with his left hand. When Chris crouches down next to him, he starts drawing a map on the ground and explaining how to get through the border, all the tricks and passages you need to take to survive. It takes some time, but Chris finds that the other seems to know the way by heart and explains it in great detail.

“I need to go now. Jungkook-hyung must be waiting for me. Goodbye for now. Sleep well and wake,” the boy says, standing up. His manner of speech is weird, but Chris has read many books about the Southern Kingdom and he can remember some of them talking about how in such a big country many dialects formed over the years, ones so different from each other you could sometimes even pinpoint which part of the kingdom they came from by their farewell. He’s never heard this one before though. The stranger must come from a more obscure part of the land.

The boy smiles at him in farewell, something so bright and innocent it doesn’t fit this dark obscure alley behind a rundown inn. He has bunny teeth, Chris realizes before the other turns and starts walking away.

“Wait!”

The stranger turns back. It only dawns on Chris now that he doesn’t know his name, but it’s probably too late to ask. “What?”

“Could you just… Could you send this, if you get a chance? This should be enough to cover any costs,” Chris says, handing him a piece of parchment and a small pouch with money. He didn’t want to risk sending a letter home before, as he wrote about crossing the border there, and now he needs to sneak into the mountains before sunrise and he won’t have the time. Once he passes the border, he will not be able to send any more messages.

It will be fine. He’ll be back so quickly, Felix probably won’t even notice that the next letter will come later than usual.

The other rolls his eyes and shakes his head but takes the objects from him. For some reason, Chris trusts him. “Alright. Goodbye then.”

“Goodbye,” Chris answers, but as he looks at the boy’s retreating back, he can’t help but think they will meet again one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... We met someone. I think you might know who that was.
> 
> And I guess Dragon is also an OC? So sorry for that, but I couldn't let Felix just talk to himself. And Dragon is also important... but enough with spoilers. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	4. I ready myself to run away before even getting up (내가 뜨기전에 도망가 긴장 단단히 해)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is weird. Sometimes, we find people and we can take care of them, help them grow, be the person they needed. Sometimes, we can try all we want and we still won't save them. We'll still fail.
> 
> At times, hope is all we have and at times, it is what losing hurt the most. Still, we must go on.

The 10th Moon of the Year 3513 MM, Day 11

Inju Village, the Great Forest, Southern Kingdom, the Mainland

**Chris**

Chris is hiding underneath the awning trying to escape the merciless rain turrets falling from the sky. The journey through the mountain range hadn’t been as difficult as he worried – the boy had warned him how dangerous fog in those mountains could be, but the sky stayed clear – and he got through the border unscathed, but that had been over a year ago. After that as he travelled through the forest covered lands, the weather has only ranged from a light sprinkle to a full-on downpour like now.

Sometimes he wonders if he really is in the Southern Kingdom he read about growing up. The one with sunny beaches in the west, the Great Forest covering the south, the towering mountains in the east and the fertile plains in the north. The stories always described it as one of the most beautiful places out there, but Chris can’t see any of that beauty through the constant wall of rain.

Most of the time though he remembers the rumours he’s heard, about how the weather had been completely unpredictable everywhere, the stories of the sun shining so harshly in the east that it melted the snow-caps on the tallest mountains, of snowstorms in the north and of parts of the coast disappearing underneath angry waves. The last one almost cost him his life – he had looked so distraught when he heard it, the man who told him got interested why was he concerned with the ocean when he supposedly lived on the mainland all his life. Chris had to come up with some dumb excuse and run away in fear he would rat him out to the Royal Guard.

He mostly just passes through the towns here in a hurry. People of the Southern Kingdom have never been the most trusting of strangers, but with how poor the country became recently… Poverty and hunger haven’t made them any more welcoming. He doesn’t want to risk it. Some of the towns even started hanging the cut-off heads of illegal immigrants on their walls, a macabre sight that caused bile to rise in Chris’ throat every time he saw it.

He knows destitution and thirst well. But he still cannot understand how people can be this cruel. Life is unfair enough without it.

An angry muffled shout breaks through the sound of rain, but the street remains empty. It’s probably a family argument in one of the houses.

Right now, Chris is in a smaller town in the Great Forest, one you could even call a village. It has only one inn and by the time he found it, it was already full – hence his current predicament. It’s getting darker by the minute and he’s not particularly keen on returning to the woods, as they are not very safe around these parts, full of bandits and rabid wolves. But it’s not likely he’ll be allowed to stay here for the rest of the night, he’s lucky the owners of the house he’s standing in front of are not yet aware of his presence. No one would want a dirtied nameless traveller resting on their doorstep.

A thunder growls in the distance and Chris wonders how far from the sea he is. He really needs to do something about his situation. He’d studied the geography of the Southern Kingdom and all of the Mainland thoroughly before leaving home, but most of his knowledge came from stories and books that were centuries old. It wasn’t necessarily accurate in looking for towns and roads. Maps, unfortunately, are scarce here. And he cannot exactly ask around.

Still, he’s lucky enough, he reckons. Ever since walked down from the mountains into the Great Forest, he didn’t encounter many problems. He knows how to survive away from the beaten path in the woods and only goes into small towns to look for information. His looks are enough to pass him as maybe slightly unusual, but still someone from these parts. He still has not managed to get rid of his accent fully, though, so he’s been trying to get by using as much body language and grunts as he could. So far it’s been working well enough. Maybe he should find a local guide, who’d help him find what he’s searching for and not ask questions.

He’s not sure he’d be able afford one though. Money again, he sighs to himself.

More loud shouting breaks him out of his musings, this time less muffled by the rain. It’s coming from one of the houses on the other side of the street, the ones that have living quarters upstairs and a shop downstairs. If Chris squints his eyes, he can make out the sign above the door and – yes, it’s a bakery. Suddenly, the said door opens, and a boy is pushed out into the rain. He falls to his knees on the cobblestone from the force of the shove and Chris winces. He’d have scraped them for sure.

A tall man stands in the doorway, his stance aggressive. “Don’t show up back here until you smarten up and learn some respect! I knew that witch probably didn’t discipline you at all, but you’re an adult now. Real men like me won’t tolerate this behaviour. Did you really think we would keep the resident nutjob’s son under our roof just out of the goodness of our hearts? We lost precious paying customers because of your ungrateful ass!”

“Sure thing, I’ll leave,” the boy yells back cockily. His voice is sharp and his back straight. Even though he’s sitting on the ground in the pouring rain, he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. From Chris’ point of view, he looks like someone that’s not afraid of anything. “See how long you’ll last without my help! We all know I worked the hardest around here.”

Chris watches as the door is shut in the boys’ face. The street is quiet once again, the neighbours not interested in the commotion. “Cowards. And leave my mother out of your filthy mouth!” the boy yells once again, but only the falling rain answers him. He keeps on sitting on the street staring at the door for a good couple of minutes before he finally gets up and scurries to hide from the rain.

Right to the same awning that Chris is under. He doesn’t seem to realise that he’s not alone though, so Chris simply observes him for a moment.

The boy is shorter than him and probably younger, although if they called him an adult than he must be at least 13. Judging from his profile, he has that kind of face that always looks young and innocent with round cheeks and wide eyes. He’s skinny, lanky, but he doesn’t seem weak. There’s a certain kind of strength in the way he holds himself, straight and unflinching, even though, as far as Chris can tell, he’s just been kicked out of his own home. This boy has some spirit.

He also only has a small backpack thrown over his shoulder and a loaf of bread in his left hand. His hands are shaking, probably because he’s soaked to the bone. Probably because he has nowhere to go now to dry off and warm up.

Probably because, even with all the bravado and defiance, he’s still scared.

“What’s your name, kid?” Chris breaks the silence when it becomes apparent that the other won’t. The kid jumps two feet in the air with a deafening shout.

Huh. Maybe not as brave as he had initially thought. And not very observant as he seems to not have noticed Chris at all. The boy turns to face him with a quiet “Who are you?”. His tone is sharp, almost aggressive and his eyes search Chris’ silhouette trying to gauge if he’s a threat or not.

His hands continue to tremble.

_What an awful deed could you have done for the world to abandon you so cruelly?_

“Just a traveller who asked you a question. What’s your name?” Chris replies, his tone light but with his right hand resting on the handle of the knife he wears by his belt. The boy is small and fidgety and overall seems quite harmless, but every animal can lash out if it thinks it’s been cornered, so he tries to relax his posture to look less imposing.

The other narrows his eyes at him. “Han,” he replies.

“Just Han?” the word is most likely his last name rather than the first one, because most names in the Southern Kingdom have two syllables. Or it may be a lie, but the ease with which it falls from the other’s lips makes Chris think he must’ve said it a lot during his life. Or a nickname, maybe?

“You didn’t give me your name at all,” the boy says and well… He’s right. But Chris isn’t planning on telling him it anytime soon. Even if the stranger wouldn’t care, if anyone overheard there’d be a huge chance Chris would be dead by sunrise. Having such a foreign name is a dead giveaway of his homeland and how he has no legal right to be on these lands. Thankfully, on the mainland everyone is very careful about it – in the Southern Kingdom, they say telling someone your name is giving them power over you and unless you’re asked by someone older or of higher position than you, the custom is not to give it. They use honorifics and last names a lot here. The boy probably won’t find it weird if Chris doesn’t elaborate.

Still, the silence is like an itch, annoying, so Chris breaks it after a moment. “Should you be outside this late? Do your parents know you’re here?” He’s pushing his buttons consciously – the boy is obviously young, quite cocky and arrogant, so the sentence should make him angry enough to speak, but not enough to start a fight. He seemed sensitive about the topic of his mother, but maybe he has a father somewhere and he’s just scared to go home.

“I’m 13, I’m an adult,” the boy speaks, the you-can’t-tell-me-what-to-do clear in his tone of voice. Chris almost chuckles under his breath, because you can’t look much more childish than that. Trying to look like a grown up just makes you seem like a kid. But he keeps looking silently at the boy and after a moment, the other begrudgingly adds “My parents are gone.”

So, an orphan, most likely. Or just abandoned by his parents. Chris has seen many children like this during his journey, too many, because times had been hard and the people’s hearts hardening with them. He sighs. He cannot offer them a home or money, because he barely has anything to his name, but the food would always feel like ash in his mouth after such encounters.

The sky is clearing though, so he straightens his back and winces as it cracks. He’s barely 16, yet he feels much older sometimes. Once the rain stops completely, he should speed walk to the gate and into the forest. It will be a damp night, but the village doesn’t seem big enough to just stay here on the streets without attracting attention. It would be too risky.

The stranger is looking up too, watching as the droplets become less heavy. It’s an interesting encounter, but Chris has enough on his plate to not try to help random children especially ones like this boy, who looks like he’d first knee you in the stomach before he even considers accepting charity. Chris is ready to leave this all behind him, he really is, but just before he steps out from underneath the alcove, he chances to look down.

The boy’s hands are still shaking, fingers almost completely white from the tightness of his grip around the bread.

He’s 13. And the boy is right, that is old enough to be considered an adult, to start a family or to travel through the country by yourself. It will be a rough start, but that’s just how life sometimes is. As long as the law stays like this, many girls and boys’ childhood will end with this number.

13… When Chris looks up again, he finds the magenta tinted face of the 10th Moon peeking from behind the grey clouds. He hopes Felix’s coming of age ceremony was loud and happy, with food and celebration. Prays that even as he was forced to become an adult without Chris by his side, he won’t lose his kindness. That he’s smiling, always.

He turns his face to look at Han again.

_An adult?, _he thinks humourlessly. No… Just a child abandoned by the world of adults forced to face this cruel world by itself. A boy with no one by his side to offer help.

Chris doesn’t believe in Fate or any other Gods of the mainland, but… He cannot go back yet, not until he’s accomplished what he set out to do. He cannot ruffle Felix’s hair, tell his sister a bedtime story nor assist his mother in cooking dinner. Here though, here he can help.

Not much and not for long probably, since he cannot imagine the boy would want to accompany him for long on his trip. But still… _Maybe this is how you fix this world, with small kind gestures instead of great revolutions, _he hears an eerily familiar voice and can almost see the bright smile wrapping around the words.

Chris smiles fondly to himself.

“Well, kid,” he speaks before he can talk himself out of it. “I’m looking for something. Wanna tag along for a bit for my travels?”

Their gazes meet. The other’s stance is still guarded, but his eyes are wide, curious. Chris can’t believe how young he looks.

The boy nods with a timid smile.

Chris smiles back. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. Not to be alone.

When Chris finds out a few weeks later that Jisung’s (it only takes the younger two days to tell him his real name, which Chris scolds him for – it’s unwise to do it so quickly) birthday is on the 14th day of the 9th Moon he starts laughing so hard he almost cries. The younger looks at him weirdly and asks if he’s okay but Chris brushes off his concern along with the tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes and pretends that nothing happened.

In his mind, he hears the crashing of waves, the patter of small feet behind him and a cheerful laugh, sees the yellow of the sand and the galaxy of freckles on a boy’s cheeks. Wonders what that boy looks like now, if he’s as tall as Jisung, how long his hair is or if his voice has changed.

He remembers every little thing and reminds himself once more that he’ll see it all again soon. He’ll come back.

He’d promised Felix that.

Straya, the Isles of Oss

**Felix**

Felix is sitting in the water looking at the horizon as the sunset paints the sky with hues of yellow, orange and red. The waves come regularly, causing the water to reach his bellybutton before retreating backwards. The ocean is still cold, always cold, even with the summer getting closer and closer and goose bumps cover his arms and legs. If his mother saw him now, she’d probably yell at him, about how he’s destroying the only good, proper clothes he owns, but he can’t bring himself to care about it.

When he was still a child, he used to spend all his evening like this, watching the Sun disappear under the ocean’s surface. Back then he’d sit on the beach for hours and just look. And listen. He always listened, because Chris always had something new and interesting to tell him.

Even though it’s been more than 3 years since he left, Felix still remembers. He remembers every story and every fact Chris has ever shared with him, remembers the warmth of the sun kissed sand and remembers happiness. Because while Chris was reading, he saw every problem, every bad thing and realised he needed to fix it, but Felix… Felix just fell in love. In all the stories he used to tell. In the nature surrounding them. In this world.

The World which end he’s looking at now.

Or maybe not. Chris always said the legend about Straya marking the western edge of the world wasn’t true. That even though the maps ended here, that people like Chris’ father, who had sailed westbound never returned, there was still something there. Something more. A land totally different from Oss, or Aid or the Kindoms.

Chris always saw more than others.

“Are you gonna go after him now?” comes a voice from behind him. It’s the mayor’s son, Eric, a boy slightly younger than Felix. Even though they’re not from around here, but from a village somewhere in the west, the last Mayor had died on a hunt leaving no heirs and his father was chosen as the most appropriate to fill the empty spot by the elder council. Considering Eric’s position in the village, it would be normal for him to be one of the crowd that sneered at him whenever he came close or even that openly stated that people like him weren’t welcome here, but he surprisingly has never shown ill intent towards Felix. They weren’t friends, but with how harsh life has been lately, all friendships basically disappeared. In a world like theirs it’s survival of the fittest, after all, and not of the kind or generous.

“That would be very stupid, you know. You have no idea where he is. He might even not be alive anymore,” Eric continues. The next wave that comes feels significantly colder than the previous ones and even more goose bumps rise on Felix’s arms and legs. He can almost hear Chris scolding him the way he always used to when the younger would go out for a swim in the evening, his brows furrowing as he repeated once again _Lix, I told you, you’ll get sick if you do that_. He can almost feel a phantom hand ruffling his hair. Almost.

“Shut up,” Felix spits out, because as scary as that thought is, he knows he can’t dispute Eric’s claim. The last letter from Chris sits in the cupboard beside his bed, has been sitting there for the last year. The one that said _I’m crossing the border to the Southern Kingdom_, that said _don’t worry, I won’t get caught_. That said _I will be back soon_. They haven’t heard from him ever since.

The letter is slightly rumpled, from the hundreds of times Felix had reread it, so much that he practically knows it by heart now. He spent countless nights imagining going after Chris, joining him in his quest now that he’s also reached adulthood. He could leave and find his brother. Nobody had the right to stop him from doing that anymore.

He doesn’t though.

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t know the world the way Chris did before he left. Chris had studied books, maps of other countries and learned their languages for years and Felix never had any interest in doing that. He always preferred reading the folk stories instead. It’s only logical that he stays home, waiting for Chris to come back. He’d only get lost if he set out.

Maybe it’s the feeling of obligation that makes him stay, a sense of duty that he learned from Chris growing up. The summers have been getting harsher and water is scarce nowadays. All capable workers should work hard in the fields for the future of the whole village.

Or maybe Felix is just scared, terrified that he’ll actually find him. That Chris will embrace him, but also get angry that he came after him and he’ll ask why and that then Felix will have to-

He’ll have to say-

“Your mother won’t be able to feed herself and we both know very well that no one will help her,” Eric interrupts his thoughts once again. Not long ago such a statement would have angered him. Now he’s just… numb, his earlier outburst having already drained all his energy. This is their reality, after all, and Felix can only fight it so much before he sees the truth. He’s never been a fighter, not like Chris, preferring to just try to simply love and experience the world and not wage a war against it. And the world is not a merciful place for the poor. Nor the sick.

“What do you want, Eric?” Felix replies tiredly. There’s a weight on his shoulders that feels not unlike the whole world. The water feels so _so_ cold.

“Nothing. You’re a good worker and we need everyone capable after Johnny’s accident. He can’t work with just one leg,” says Eric and it’s honestly not surprising. People may be divided, but the land is one and it’s the town that sells the crops, not individuals. Losing two young, strong people in such a short amount of time wouldn’t bode well for the whole village. Felix wonders if Eric is thinking just about himself and his family or about the wellbeing of all the people. Maybe, if it’s the latter, the village might get a good Mayor in the future.

“I’m not leaving. Satisfied now?” Felix’s gaze doesn’t leave the view spreading out in front of him. He thinks about how Chris probably could’ve described it with pretty words and expressions – he used to devour all books, from those that spoke of faraway lands to even those few poetry volumes that no one ever understood and his vocabulary reflected that. All Felix can say is that it’s beautiful, but maybe it’s fine. He’s not Chris after all. Chris never breaks his promises.

“Yeah,” replies Eric and Felix listens to the splashes his feet make as the other boy makes his way back to the shore.

All Felix can do now is stay and work and wait. He can’t risk leaving to find Chris only to get lost somewhere or killed by bandits when he has people who depend on him here. People who need him. He’ll go work in the fields and try to bring some grain back in his pockets – “it’s stealing, it’s wrong, Lix” Chris would’ve said, but Chris is not here and Felix’s mom has been looking weaker and weaker and they’re _starving _– and bake some bread. Maybe he’ll go into the forest to hunt for some meat since they can’t even buy it anymore. He can’t get caught, a year ago the king ordained a death penalty for hunting without permission, but if he sneaks out on a Sunday, when everyone’s in the Church attending the Mass, and be quick about it then no one should know.

And then one day, Chris will come back. He’ll knock on the door of Felix’s house because he’ll want him to help surprise Grace, the thing he searched the whole world for in his hand and a dimpled smile on his face. He’ll tell him how much he has grown and maybe even tear up a little. He’ll comment on his voice too, make some kind of a metaphor to describe how low it’s gotten in the years he’s been gone.

And then, grinning from ear to ear, he’ll ask Felix to lead him to Grace.

And Felix will.

He’ll take his hand. Guide him out of the house and into the street. They won’t stop by Chris’ house, pass it by as they’ll walk down the street. Chris will laugh joyfully and ask if Grace’s better, if she was finally allowed to leave her room and explore the outside world, but Felix won’t say anything. They’ll leave the town and slowly make their way up the hill into the forest. By then, Chris will probably stop laughing, disconcerted by the younger’s silence.

They’ll reach their destination.

A small clearing, not too far into the woods. In the summer it’s covered with cowslip, causing the glade to colour yellow. And there, right in the middle, because all she ever wanted was to be allowed outside and rest on a flowerbed, right there is-

There is-

The proof that Felix is a liar who cannot keep his promises.

And Felix tried, he’s tried so hard, but effort means nothing in this world, and he’s just not good enough, never good enough, unable to stop things from slipping from his grasp like grains of sand, unable to save one little girl that he promised to take care of-

He doesn’t know what will happen later. He doesn’t want to know.

He doesn’t think he’s for that quite yet.

And as the last rays of the sun disappear into the ocean, Felix sits in the water and cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! Jisung is finally here! I don't know why that makes me so excited, but yeah... Hope you enjoyed that as well.
> 
> Oh, and now you can see what I meant by Grace not being around for long. Well... From now on the rest of the characters, even the passing ones, will be idol cameos (like Eric here, for example), so in the future feel free to guess who they are if you'd like.


End file.
